


Unexpected Consequences

by the_shy_shrimp



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cullen is trying, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Inquisitor needs a nap, Lavellan is having a bad time, Lavellan/Solas Fluff (Dragon Age), Little bit of Fluff, Magical Weighted Blankets, Protective Iron Bull, Reader-Insert, Sensory Overload, Solas makes it better, and maybe snuggles, but mostly a nap, if it ain't broke break it - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_shy_shrimp/pseuds/the_shy_shrimp
Summary: You know that it was wrong to run. You know you should have stayed to weather the storm. You had before, what made this time different? Was it the stifling heat? The blinding sunlight? The barrage of smells that seemed to blend all together until there was no distinguishing one from another? The assault of noise bleeding in from... everywhere? Or was it that you just did not care to meet with this noble in particular, and so would not spare the effort to overcome your discomfort for the sake of propriety?Josephine would have your head.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas
Kudos: 16





	Unexpected Consequences

Too much, too much, too much. 

You know that it was wrong to run. You know you should have stayed to weather the storm. You had before, what made this time different? Was it the stifling heat? The blinding sunlight? The barrage of smells that seemed to blend all together until there was no distinguishing one from another? The assault of noise bleeding in from... everywhere? Or was it that you just did not care to meet with this noble in particular, and so would not spare the effort to overcome your discomfort for the sake of propriety? 

Josephine would have your head. 

But that was a problem for another time. She was probably already occupied with soothing ruffled feathers belonging to visiting dignitaries and nobles who had expected a meeting with the Inquisitor but would instead be seeing her ambassador. Really, she should have expected something like this.

Your shoes had been discarded on your way here; there was no way you would be able to keep your feet contained another instant like this. Your overshirt, too, had been shed somewhere along the way. In fact, any article of clothing that was remotely restrictive had been lost in some form. Likely any who had seen you tearing through Skyhold, shedding layers as you had been, thought you insane. 

Today, you felt like that was probably not so far from the truth. 

You huddled under the desk in the abandoned library near the kitchens, regretting momentarily that your hiding place was so close to one of the loudest and smelliest places in the keep. Not that the noises or smells were particularly unpleasant. Just... anything adding to the cacophony of information assaulting your senses was better avoided for the moment. Still, it was a good enough hiding spot that it would hopefully buy you some time to get yourself under control. They would come looking for you eventually, though hopefully that wouldn’t be for a good long while yet. 

Tempted though you were to discard your breeches along with the rest of your clothing, you had the presence of mind to at least maintain a modicum of decency, and simply resorted to rolling the legs up to your knees. Then you tore into your legs, raking your fingernails along the soft flesh of your calves, using the pain to drown out the overwhelming waves of noise leaking in from your surroundings. As if the constant mutterings of the voices from the Well weren’t bad enough already. You didn’t stop, determined to quench the itch of a thousand little insects crawling beneath your skin, not even when the tears began to run down your face and your fingers became tinged red with blood. You needed to keep going. You needed to stem the tide before-

“Boss?” 

You froze. 

“You in here, Boss?”

You hoped against hope that the Ben-Hassrath could not hear your ragged breathing, but you knew full well that he could tell exactly where you were. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t left a damn trail of your clothes leading right to you. 

Still, you clenched your eyes shut and hoped he would just leave. 

“Shit, Boss.” 

He was right in front of you. You could tell by where his voice came from, even though you hadn’t heard him move. Even though he was trying to be quiet, his voice still reverberated through your skull, and you ceased your scratching just long enough to clap your hands over your ears. 

When you eventually opened your eyes again, he was gone. You breathed a light sigh of relief, though it was only momentary, then promptly returned to the ever-present, crawling itch in your legs. Time passed, although how much time was a mystery to you. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, and the barrage never ceased or even so much as let up. 

“Are you certain of what you saw?”

“Spy, remember? I couldn’t forget it if I tried, and believe me, this is one thing I wish I could.”

You curled up tighter and shut your eyes again, after seeing the reflection of green veilfire against the wall, illuminating the darkened library. He’d brought Solas, it would seem. A small whine escaped you, but you supposed Solas at least knew how to be quiet, unlike half of your other followers. Creators, you could not even imagine having to deal with Sera or Dorian right now. 

“Fenedhis.”

“See? I told you.”

“Yes, you were right.”

“So... what do we do about it?”

There was a blessed stretch of silence while Solas appeared to think, in which you chanced to crack open your eyes, and instantly regretted doing so as the still-lit veilfire sent a lance of pain right through your skull. Thankfully, the hedge mage dropped the volume of his voice even further. 

“I believe have seen this before, in dreams. A similar illness was common in Arlathan, among mages who connected too deeply with the Fade, such that their ability to function outside of the dream realm was compromised. Lapses in concentration, sensitivity to light and sound, even the feeling that one’s spirit literally could not be contained within their body. I have a suspicion that this may be yet another unforeseen consequence of the Inquisitor drinking from the Well of Sorrows.”

“Well… Crap.”

“Indeed.”

“So… what can we do for the boss?”

Here, Solas sighed deeply, and you could imagine the strained look on his face without seeing it.

“In reality, very little. We must support her as best as we are able. Help her through the times when she is... like this... if we find what makes it worse, we can help her avoid those things. We won’t be able to fix all of it, but I have seen some things that have helped the ones I met in the Fade. I imagine there will be quite a bit of trial and error, although my hope is that things will improve with time.” 

“Solas? Is that you?”

“Shit.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

No, no, no... there were already too many people here with Bull and Solas, especially with both of them talking about you like you weren’t even in the room. Not that you could really bring yourself to participate in the conversation anyway. But now that the Commander had arrived? You shivered all the more as he approached. 

“Lower your voice, please, Commander.” Solas very nearly whispered, although apparently, he was loud enough for the ex-templar to hear. 

“What is going on here? Have you found the Inquisitor?”

“Yes...” The mage trailed off, however, and it sounded as if the Commander was trying to push his way past. “But she needs space right now. Peace and quiet, yes?”

“Why? What’s wrong with her?”

There was a long silence, broken only by the soft creak of The Iron Bull’s knees as he squatted down in front of you, blocking the entrance to your little desk-cave. You couldn’t decide if it made you feel better or worse, but at least his bulk served to block out some of the torchlight. The sounds of Solas and Cullen chattering away in hushed tones went largely ignored, and you raked your fingernails across already bleeding skin once again. No matter how much skin you scraped away, the crawling feeling never seemed to abate.

“Boss?” Bull sighed, reaching out and causing you to flinch away when he brushed the back of your hand. He sighed again. “I’ll be back in a little bit, alright? I’m just going to go and get some bandages for your legs. I’m sure Solas will stick around if you need something, yeah?”

You gave off a small whine as he rose, letting the light back into your shelter, and shuffled yourself further under the desk. You barely heard Bull’s voice briefly join the others before the silence returned, only to be broken moments later by the shuffling clap of footsteps retreating down the corridor. The green reflections of veilfire were the only indicators you had of Solas’s movements, as his footsteps were very nearly silent. 

“I have sent the Commander back to inform the others that you’ve been found.” His voice was low and soft, dripping with sorrow and sympathy as he took the place of the Qunari, kneeling in front of the desk. “The Iron Bull has gone for some supplies, but I think he already told you that...”

He trailed off, and you dared to open your eyes, just a sliver. Solas had settled himself cross-legged on the floor, and left the torch propped up on the desk itself, muting its piercing light just enough to not be agonizing. His face... his face just made your heart ache.

“I am so sorry, da’len... This is something that never should have happened to you.”

You sniffed, unable to really think of how you should respond. You wanted to crawl over and cling to him, ask him to make it stop, to make the pain go away and keep the sounds, those damned _voices_ , from making it feel like your ears were bleeding. But you couldn’t. Even the light caress of Bull’s surprisingly gentle hands had been too much; there was no way you could handle more than that right now. 

And so you sat and you waited, hoping that whenever Bull returned with those bandages that they wouldn’t try to help you with them. You knew it was unlikely that they would leave you to bandage your own legs, but there was always hope.

“Hey, I’m back...” The Qunari’s voice was about as quiet as it could physically be, though it still made your ears ring. “How’s the boss doing?”

“No different.” Came the mage's sigh. “Did you bring the blanket I asked for?”

You watched cautiously as Bull nodded and handed over a thin grey blanket. It looked soft enough, and as soon as Solas had it in hand, he began weaving spells into it. You would not dare to reach out to see what exactly he was doing, but you wagered that as soon as he was finished he would be passing it off to you. And so you watched, splitting your attention between your two friends as Solas wove his spells and Bull laid out the rolls of bandages he brought. 

“There...” the hedge mage muttered, refolding the blanket and nudging it toward you. “Go on, da’len, it will help, I promise.”

Doubt and suspicion surged immediately in your gut, but still you gingerly reached out to touch it. The weave was much finer, much softer than it had originally looked, and it felt like the softest thing you’d ever touched. You closed your eyes again, feeling for the spells imbued into it, and two immediately stuck out to you. There was no name for them, but they felt calm and heavy. There was a third, though less prominent, and you had some difficulty untangling it from the other two. But the two that you recognized seemed harmless enough. 

Reluctantly, you unfolded the impossibly soft fabric and wrapped it around your shoulders. The relief was almost instantaneous, and it left you feeling dizzy and lightheaded. The bang of pots and pans bleeding in from the kitchen grew silent, and the scent of old food was gone along with it. No longer did the veilfire burn your eyes, even through closed eyelids. Everything was... muffled... and you let out a sigh of relief bigger than any you can remember. 

“Easy, easy...” The voice belonged to Solas, as did the hands guiding you to lie down on the floor. You hadn’t even noticed how far you had leaned to the side until he reached out and stopped you from hitting the ground. 

“If I knew you were going to make her sleep I would have brought a pillow.”

“I didn’t. Not really. Although she may still doze for a while, regardless. She has likely exhausted herself enough to.”

You barely paid them any heed, content to simply lay and be quiet while they chattered. The spells in the blanket pressed in on you, making you feel safe and sheltered, like you were being held by the most unobtrusive pair of arms in the world. You found it strangely relaxing, and gently drifted while the Qunari spread cooling salve over your mutilated shins and bandaged them in soft strips of linen. 

The world around you grew increasingly far away, or at least it felt that way, and it took a good minute or two for you to realize that The Iron Bull had picked you up and was carrying you out of the library. This should have disturbed you, having them drag you out of your hiding place and into the open, but you found yourself unable to care beyond the small hope that maybe, just maybe, Solas might stay with you to fend off visitors for a while. 

And he did. He stayed, even after The Iron Bull settled you in your bed, and after Cullen came in bearing a stack of your discarded clothing. Both left, but Solas remained with you, perched on the edge of your bed with his fingers entwined with yours. You drifted in and out of consciousness, but he was there every time you surfaced, a book in his lap, gently rubbing circles into the back of the hand he held and murmuring soft Elvhen until you settled again. 

Eventually, you stirred, immediately realizing the apostate no longer sat by your side. His fingers were still knotted in yours, but the man himself had crawled into your bed and settled behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist to hold your hand. Between the enchantments in the blanket and the pleasant weight of Solas behind you, you couldn’t have been more comfortable.


End file.
